It’s always a pleasure to hear the correct use of the subjunctive tense and the Bard does not often disappoint.
It is, of course, Twelfth Night. The decorations have been tenderly put in their boxes. The blowsy fairy, which originally belonged to the Sage’s grandmother, received particular care. Her face is, though highly coloured, not unattractive but her hair is just a mess and her dress, made by my mother-in-law several decades ago, is a particularly unattractive green. I feel she deserves a new one, but will forget about it for the next 49 weeks and I won’t have time then.
Squiffany wanted to call in this morning. We had been out in the garden, watching the tractor with a fork-lift shifting the root of the fallen pine tree. The lad driving the tractor is only 18; he has worked for the farmer for a year since leaving school, but we were impressed by his skill and care. The previous boy had been a disappointment as an employee – he didn’t appreciate the early start to the day that is required on a dairy farm and was often late or absent. Young O is another matter and he’s already trusted to do skilled work.
Dilly was going to take the children shopping in Norwich, so there wasn’t time to visit, so an invitation was issued for later on. Instead, I took her to see the impressive gap in the hedge that will be cut to a row of stumps and allowed to regrow. Good friend Jamie was startled to see my handiwork and teased me about my vigour with a saw. I didn’t mind, as long as he kept removing the debris. The hedge had been about 15 feet tall and there were large branches to drag away.
By noon, it was raining steadily so I went grocery shopping while the chaps started to clear the greenhouse which the chickens will be invited to ramble through for the next couple of months. I was talkng to my friend Mark the Butcher as he cut me some cheese and weighed the meat when his boss, John the Butcher came up. “When you’ve finished chatting to Z” he said “we need to talk about where you are putting sausage skins. And how much water you’re putting them in.” Mark had put the skins in a tub, filled it with water and put in on a high shelf. John, reaching for them, had tipped them over himself. He was wet and unhappy. I offered a hug. He said he really needed a shower and a change of clothes. My offer had not extended further than a hug, however, so I paid and left.
Later, Dilly and Squiffany turned up. “She didn’t forget, she’s been saying ‘call at Granny’s house’ all the way home.” Squiffany’s face lit up when she saw the Pooping Reindeer. He is small and plastic and contains 10 brown jelly beans, which he excretes when you press his back. This entertained her for a good half hour. “Poo-poo!, hah hah hah” is a good joke which bears much repetition. “RoRo, poo-poo, hah hah hah” “Granny, poo-poo, hah hah hah.” RoRo and I were surprisingly entertained too, there really is nothing quite like a baby’s laughter.